


(by)Passer

by FlufferNutterButter



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: "Getting the Band Together", Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - Cyberpunk(?), Modern/Futuristic, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlufferNutterButter/pseuds/FlufferNutterButter
Summary: In a futuristic Thedas, the Conclave explosion is considered a national terrorist attack that splits the already-divided population even more. In a world where everyone is your enemy, a number of increasingly unlikely revolutionaries join together to serve a common cause-all because of a viral video.





	

The icy stone seeped cold through her pants, but she bore it. The fresh air outside of the Conclave was much preferred to the stuffy, packed, tense atmosphere inside. Now that everyone was in attendance, things had finally started moving forward, only to screech to a halt yet again when the differences between mages and Templars continued to prove insurmountable. Hardly anyone could get a word in edgewise.

The mage girl, of house Trevelyan, was a Circle mage herself, though that hardly mattered here where everyone was on one side or the other. She clenched her jaw and grit her teeth when she encountered too many hostile-looking Templars. Though others from her Circle were in attendance, there were not many, and none of them stuck with each other. Surrounded by so much potential hatred and no friendly faces, she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. Minnow, meet sharks.

She grounded herself with a deep breath and took a sip of tea, the only warm thing in the biting snow. She’d taken the sleeve from the cup to better let the liquid warm her hands, and used a weak fire spell to keep it at that temperature.

“Easier ways to do that,” a voice said, spooking her and almost causing her to drop her cup. An Elven mage, one that she’d seen around a few times before, sat down on the steps next to her. She shrugged.

“It’s not the same. I don’t have to focus on the spell all of the time if I use it to heat something else.”

“Something more substantial than a cup of tea?” he supplied.

Though the Elf mage was a stranger, he had a kind face and spoke warmly; she found herself acting in kind.

“Oh? Like what?”

He looked pensive. “Your scarf?”

“Totally defeats the purpose. Hm… You’ve got a lot of hair, yeah?”

He grabbed his braid and pulled it over his shoulder and out of her reach. “Definitely not!” he laughed, “If you’re so keen on the idea, use your own!”

She smiled, shaking her head to emphasize her ponytail. “Not nearly as appealing.”

He grinned, and then looked down at her cup. “Hey… is that all you have?”

A noncommittal shoulder lifted. “I just wanted a refreshment.”

He stood and held out his hand to her. “Break’s almost over, and then we have hours before our next one. You should eat.”

She made a face, eyes sliding to the main door, where a group of Templars gathered. He followed her gaze.

“Oh, for the-are you kidding me? You’re going to starve yourself because you’re scared of some Templars.”

“Not scared,” she defended, “I just don’t want to force trouble.”

“Oh-kay, look.” He took her hand in his own. “I’m going to go get you some food, I’ll bring it out here, and then later, we can work on your whole intimidation factor problem.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, you do.” He hustled up the steps and almost made it to the grand entryway before it struck her that she hadn’t learned his name. However, her shouts of “Hey!” were met only with stern, fierce glances from the Templars, as her new Elf friend had just slipped through the doors.

She decided she’d ask him later.

She never did.

* * *

 

_BREAKING NEWS:_

_“It’s been three weeks now since the tragedy at the Conclave where everyone in attendance lost their lives. No group has yet claimed responsibility for the act-”_

“Oi, turn that off.” A hand reached from behind him, grabbing.

“Leave me be, dammit. This is important.” Blackwall kept a firm grip on the remote so that Sera couldn’t touch it. She lunged over his shoulder, missed, and rolled to the floor from the sofa.

“Shitty news is shitty. A lot of people died. Terrorism sucks. Boo-hoo, you’re not gonna fix anything sitting around on your fat arse.”

_“-the latest update, coming to you-”_

“What now?” Blackwall whispered, leaning forward. Sera sat up and grabbed a phone.

“I’m thinking noodles.”

“Not _you_ ,” he said sharply. “Shut up, I’m trying to listen.”

_“-footage of someone closing a rift-”_

“Shitwhat?” Sera plopped down on the sofa next to Blackwall, now as attentive as Blackwall. He would have rolled his eyes if they weren’t glued to the screen.

A grainy video footage showed a group of people struggling against the darkspawn coming from a rift. It appeared to be at night, or late evening, since it was dark and everything was lit by the green glow of the Fade. Suddenly, a new figure joined the fray, raising a hand, and a green burst emitted from it, apparently stunning the monsters.

“Holy…” Sera drifted off.

The people got the upper hand on the darkspawn, and a minute of brutal brawling later, all of the monsters had been killed. The figure again raised a hand, and this time, when the green light shone, the rift disippated.

“… _shit,_ ” Sera finished. She and Blackwall sat in silent shock as the video ended and the camera returned to the newscasters.

_“We now bring you eyewitness accounts of the occurrence.”_

_“What can you tell us about the person who closed the rift?”_

A dwarven man, pudgy and ruddy, leaned into the microphone. _“She came out of nowhere. One second, I think we’re gonna die at the hands of them monsters, and then she’s there, like an act of the Maker, stunnin’ the darkspawn and helpin’ us fight. She saved us, she did…”_

_“’She’? How do you know it was a woman?”_

_“You think I never seen a woman before? Trust me. Ya couldn’t see much, what for the darkness, but when she made that light, you could tell.”_

_“What did she look like?”_

_“… I don’t know! Wore a hood. It was dark…”_

The interviewer changed tactics.

_“How did she close the rift?”_

_“You think I know? She just did it…” he began mumbling. “An act of the Maker… like Andraste herself…”_

The screen came back to the newscasters.

_“Did he just call her Andraste?”_

Blackwall heard and felt Sera lose her breath.

_“Just the ramblings of a man in shock. After all, if this woman has this power, why hasn’t she used it before? Why won’t she come forward?”_

_“What do you think?”_

The skeptic newscaster looked straight at the camera. _“If she can close the rifts, she can probably open them, too. I think she started this.”_

Sera stood up. “Bull _shit_ ,” she hissed through her teeth. She grabbed an arrow from the quiver she kept by the sofa, “Please don’t wave that around,” Blackwall said, and pointed it at the television, right between the newscaster’s eyes. “You just don’t get it. You sit on your arse all day passing judgment on the lesser, the victims, and acting like you have no care in the world. It’s so easy, isn’t it? But she’s out there, trying to do something, and you can’t have someone being better than you, so you talk shit.”

“Sera,” Blackwall sighed, “If you break my television-”

“I want to find her.”

“Who, the mystery woman? How do you think you’re going to find her?”

Sera shot him a devilish grin. “Just who do you think I am?”


End file.
